


Poker

by Iliad06



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Spencer, First Time, M/M, Poker, Top Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7299799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iliad06/pseuds/Iliad06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Morgan works as a bartender at The Lucky Dog, a small casino in Las Vegas. One night, a gorgeous man sits in his section.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete. I plan to post a new chapter every day until all 5 are up. Hope you enjoy!

_Beautiful._ That is the first thought that goes through Derek’s mind as he steps up to the side of machine #13. _Fuck, I owe Pen big time_ is the second. The man sitting at the machine is the most gorgeous man he has seen in a long time: high cheekbones, large eyes, and hair that flops carelessly around his ears. It’s the kind of hair Derek wants to sink his fingers into.

Penelope knows him so well. He’ll have to find her an equally gorgeous, buff man to flirt with later. 

Gorgeous raises his eyes from the machine and his hands give a small twitch like he’s trying not to twist them together in his lap. “Yes?” Shit, Derek’s been standing next to him too long without saying anything.

“Here’s the drink you ordered,” Derek says with a smirk, handing Gorgeous a blue, fruity concoction. 

“Thank you.” The man sips at the drink, his soft hum of pleasure almost drowned out by the chiming of casino machines and the loud guffaw from the old man three rows away. Derek hears it and wonders what he sounds like on his back.

_Flirt first, fantasize later._

“Penelope got called away to another section, but I’m happy to take care of you tonight.” Derek puts just the right amount of teasing into his voice and cocks a hip against his empty drink tray. A pretty blush warms Gorgeous’s cheeks and he sets the drink down with a shaky hand. 

“Thank you,” hazel eyes take in the nametag on his chest, “Derek.”

“Let’s even the playing field here. What’s your name, Pretty Boy?”

Gorgeous coughs, cheeks positively flaming his embarrassment. “Uh, Spencer.” His gaze darts around the casino before settling on Derek again, shy and wary. _Too much._

“Well, Spencer, just let me know if you need anything.” With a last, warm smile, Derek walks back towards the bar to make another round of drinks for the college boys that wave at him from a poker table nearby. 

His body thrums with excitement and he tries to convince himself not to be so giddy. After all, they had barely talked to each other. Still, it’s not often someone so good looking comes into the casino. Sure, the casino is on The Strip, but it’s a small place compared to some of the bigger, more luxurious casinos. Most tourists want the razzle dazzle Las Vegas lights, machines that blare winning chimes, and women in feathered costumes. The Lucky Dog is a little smaller, not nearly as loud, and attracts more regulars than tourists. Derek likes it better that way.

He’s elbow deep in making a tray of vodka redbulls for the college poker wannabes when Penelope slides up to him and leans back against the bar with a large grin.

“You owe me, my Chocolate God.”

“Anything you want Baby Girl.”

“Hmm…” She twirls a blonde curl around one figure and stares at the ceiling as if she’ll find what she wants up there. A second later, she snaps her fingers and the smile that stretches across her face makes Derek want to retract his statement. “I want all your social media passwords and your phone password for an hour.”

“So you can…?”

“See all the steamy messages and pictures you send.”

He laughs. “Yeah right, like you can’t just hack your way into my accounts anyway.”

“You have a point.” She resumes her thinking posture, tapping her lips with a finger this time. 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Derek grins and dodges her indignant smack, heavy tray hoisted over his shoulder.

“I’ll get you, Derek Morgan!” she yells as he leaves the bar area.

“Can’t wait!” he calls over his shoulder.

Derek delivers the mixed drinks to a cacophony of drunken cheers before making his rounds at his other sections. It’s another fifteen minutes before he allows himself to drift near Spencer and machine #13. He doesn’t want to come off as too eager, especially considering his last advance made the younger man nervous, but he can’t help but want to try again. Shy, socially awkward types just take a little more work and Derek has never backed down from a challenge.

Spencer is leaning forward, head resting against the palm of his hand while his other hand pokes at the screen on the machine. He seems… bored. His fingers nudge the screen every few seconds, his eyes focus on the cards before him, and his expression remains vacant. 

“How’s it going?” Derek asks, moving to stand near Spencer, but not close enough to make the man nervous.

“It’s going well.” His eyes never leave the machine as he presses Deal for a new hand. “These machines only allow a .7% chance at winning, but if you hold out for the Royal Flush your chances increase to almost 2%.”

“Huh, I never knew that.” 

Spencer seems to shake himself out of his game and turns to face Derek, blush already starting to show on his cheeks.

“Sorry, random statistics tend to spew out of my mouth when I’m distracted.”

“No need for an apology. Just remind me to invite you to trivia night.”

Spencer laughs and the sound sends a warm flush through Derek’s chest. If Spencer was gorgeous before, he’s outright smoking when he laughs.

“Want a refill?” Spencer nods and their fingers touch when he hands Derek the empty glass. There aren’t fireworks or sparkles or any of that cliché crap Penelope’s romance novels talk about. But Spencer’s fingers are warm and Derek’s fingers remember the press of them as he makes another fruity drink. 

If Spencer notices that Derek purposefully touches their fingers together again when he hands him the new drink, he doesn’t say anything. He does, however, flash Derek a shy smile before sipping his drink and turning back to his machine. 

Derek’s still grinning as he makes his way back to the bar. 

“Yep, you owe me,” Penelope singsongs, smiling. Derek flicks a straw wrapper at her but she dances out of the way. “Big time, Sweet Cheeks!” 

Derek flips a cherry at her. She shrieks as the offending piece of fruit falls right down the opening of her vest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! They get longer after this so stay with me! :)

Spencer sits at machine #13 the next day. As soon as Penelope sees him, she barters switching sections with Derek in exchange for him taking her to the arcade on Derek’s dime their next day off. Derek agrees, too quickly if the mischievous glint in Penelope’s eye is any indication, and makes his way over to Spencer, blue drink already in hand. He sets it down and grins when Spencer looks up at him with a furrowed brow.

“You remembered my drink?”

“That’s my job, Hotstuff.” Spencer blushes as he takes a sip but he looks pleased. Whether it’s because of the flirting or the drink, Derek doesn’t know. 

“Uh, well, thanks,” he says, moving to put the drink down before his twitching hands spill it on his grey sweater.

“Holding out for the Royal Flush tonight?” Derek asks. _See? I remember more than just your drink._

“Always. It’s working too.” He points at the screen and Derek’s eyes widen at the amount in the top right hand corner.

“How much did you start with?”

“A grand.”

Derek whistles and claps Spencer on the shoulder. “Shit, you’re going to clean me out of a job.”

Spencer laughs and shakes his head. “The average large casino on The Strip pulls in 72 million dollars a year. This establishment, while smaller, must be making at least 50 million in revenue. You should probably ask for a raise.”

Derek laughs. “Or maybe you should just teach me to play.”

Spencer’s eyes glint with the challenge.

“When are you off?”

***  
Ever since the question, Derek’s shift can’t end fast enough. It feels like hours until he's clocking out and changing into jeans and a black t-shirt in the supply closet. In reality, it has only been an hour.

Now, he’s sitting next to Spencer at the Pink Flamingo, the smaller casino right across the street, with a beer in his hand while Spencer nurses a gin and tonic. The younger man is babbling different statistics and game strategies but all Derek can focus on is the way his hands move as he talks. They twist and dance in the air all at once emphasizing his point and distracting Derek from it entirely. 

And, really? That’s what he notices? His hands? He is so screwed.

“Um, Derek.” Spencer snaps his fingers and Derek shakes his head to clear it.

“Sorry. Continue.”

“Well, you have to put in your card first.”

Embarrassment sweeps through Derek’s stomach at his oversight, but he laughs it off with a “just making sure you were paying attention,” grateful when Spencer lets the lame excuse slide, and puts his card into the machine. The corner of the screen flashes his credit amount, $200, indicating he can start playing.

“Alright, kid, help me out.”

“No chance. You’re going to show me how you would play normally.” Derek must look concerned because Spencer laughs. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you lose too badly.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Pretty Boy.” Spencer fumbles for his drink, but doesn’t blush at the nickname and Derek considers that a win.

He plays a few hands without guidance from Spencer, save for his unsolicited advice about holding out for the Royal Flush the night before. He wins a hand or two, but starts to lose shortly after that, his credit quickly dwindling to $150. He’s showing two fours, an ace, and two kings. Royal Flush in mind, Derek taps on the unnecessary cards to draw new ones but Spencer’s hand covers his.

“Wait, wait,” Spencer says. He doesn’t move his hand from where it rests against Derek’s and he stares at the screen, chewing at his bottom lip as he thinks. Derek doesn’t move either for fear of interrupting whatever numbers Spencer is surely crunching in his brain. The genius’s hand is warm and soft and Derek tries hard not to imagine what it would feel like pressing nails into his back or biceps. 

Fuck, he hasn’t been this attracted to someone right after meeting them since he was going through puberty.

“Here.” Spencer taps on the screen to discard the Ace. He hesitates for a moment before tapping Draw.

Another four joins Derek’s hand on the screen and winner flashes across it in big letters.

“Huh, you must be lucky.”

“I hope so,” Derek winks just to see the light blush bloom on Spencer’s cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek did get lucky that night as far as walking away with a few hundred bucks worth of winnings in his pocket goes. He didn’t get lucky as far as getting a gorgeous brunette spread across his bed and begging for more goes. Spencer is too self-conscious to be the type who would do a one-night stand. And, if Derek is being really honest, he wants more than one night with Spencer. 

They had fun that night. They gambled and drank a little, although not so much that either of them was more than buzzed. More importantly, they talked. Not about dark secrets, or embarrassing stories, or anything too deep, but they found they had more in common than originally thought. Spencer was an avid superhero movie watcher and Derek was a secret Game of Thrones fan. The conversation flowed with barely a break in between topics and Derek couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much with a single person, except for Penelope.

They parted after exchanging phone numbers and with a promise to go out together again sometime. Derek thought it might be a while before he saw Spencer again since the next day was Monday and most people didn’t gamble on weekdays.

Somehow, he isn’t surprised when Spencer slides into a seat at the bar about halfway through his shift.

“Are you following me?” he jokes, reaching for the blue curacao to start making Spencer’s drink. 

Spencer shakes his head as he sets his messenger bag carefully on the ground near his dangling feet.

“On a vacation?”

“No, I live in the city actually.”

“Can I ask why you’ve been coming here so often? I haven’t seen you before this, so you’re not one of our regulars.”

Derek slides the blue drink across the bar. Spencer swirls the straw through the drink, even though Derek has mixed it already, and chews on his bottom lip. After a few moments he points at something behind Derek. Derek knows without looking he’s pointing at the Poker Tournament flyer that Penelope created. The casino holds tournaments a few times a year, all with different themes and grand prizes. Tournaments mean double his hourly wage and bigger tips from cocky players so Derek is always the first to sign up to deal, which usually means he deals through every round.

“You’re playing in the tournament?”

Spencer nods and sips at the drink through the straw. His eyes light up. “Your best one yet.”

“Well, practice makes perfect.” Derek moves to the sink to wash a few shot glasses that have piled up as Spencer sticks his casino card into the machine in front of him. He expects the younger man to take his drink and go to machine #13, but Spencer just sips at his drink and starts playing like it’s normal for him to sit at the bar.

“Have you played at the tables yet?” Derek asks, pointing at a poker table with a soapy finger.

Spencer glances over as a loud “suck it boys!” sounds from the table and a man with pink sunglasses rakes in handfuls of chips with greedy fingers. The way Spencer’s lip curls tells Derek everything he needs to know.

“Um, I’d rather not.”

“Video poker is different from actual poker.”

“It can’t be that different.” His fingers tap against the screen in the distracted way he always approaches the game, attention half on the screen and half on stirring his drink with the straw.

“You’re telling me that genius brain of yours can’t figure out the difference in probability when you have one player versus when you have five?”

“The amounts are the same-“

“The bluffing isn’t.”

“I’m sure my video poker simulations are more than suitable enough for preparing for a tournament.”

Derek laughs. Outright, stomach-clenching laughter pours from his lips. The kid knows it’s different. He just doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong. Surprise and embarrassment flash across Spencer’s face, before anger settles in. His eyebrows draw together and his jaw sets with indignant fury.

“It’s not funny,” he snaps, sharp. Derek’s laughter cuts off with a click of his jaw. He holds up his hands in a universal sign of “no harm meant.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just you’re too logical to think video poker is enough, so what gives?”

Spencer mumbles something that Derek doesn’t quite catch.

“Come again?”

“I don’t like people.”

“You like me well enough.”

“You’re different.” Warm happiness explodes in Derek’s chest and he shouldn’t feel so good about someone saying he’s not disliked, but Spencer seems like the type of person who doesn’t admit feelings easily, not because he’s callous but because he’s unaware. Derek recognizes Spencer’s quick defense of him for what it really is. Spencer likes him in some capacity and that justifies the happy dance his stomach is currently doing.

“Well, you’re never going to prepare for a tournament without playing with people.”

“Der-“

“Come to my place tonight. We’ll play the next few days then I’ll bring in a friend or two slowly, since you don’t like people, until we have a tournament-sized table. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods and Derek barely keeps himself from dancing behind the counter. Later, he catches Penelope in the back to brag and laughs as she squeals and demands details.

***  
His shift flies by after that. The casino gets busy for a Monday and drinks are mixed, poured, and drunk in a quick rhythm that has Derek consistently making rounds for different patrons. When he isn’t delivering drinks to his section, he passes the time cleaning and chatting up Spencer. He learns a little about the man and doesn’t believe that he already has two bachelor degrees and a doctorate in Mathematics for that matter until Spencer logs into his university accounts and proves it.

In exchange for doubting Spencer’s honesty, he gives him a napkin full of cherries and tells him about his mom and sisters in Chicago. Spencer doesn’t volunteer to talk about his own family, but Derek doesn’t push.

At the end of his shift, the pair leaves the casino together and Derek tries not to smile too big when Spencer leans against him, a little unsteady on his feet. He doesn’t bring attention to it, but he does open the car door for the other man, which earns him a shy smile.

The drive is quick and within fifteen minutes, Derek is leading Spencer up the stairs to his one bedroom apartment.

The apartment is small since Derek can’t afford any larger in Las Vegas, but it’s cozy. His mom and sisters made sure to help him pick out a squashy couch, pillowtop bed, and soft throw pillows. Derek didn’t really understand the need for throw pillows, but mom threw in a large flat screen television if he didn’t argue with their choices. Needless to say, he kept his mouth shut after that. The trio didn’t do too badly, and Derek was actually surprised to find that everything they picked seemed to reflect what he would want anyway.

Spencer seats himself at the dark wood dining room table as Derek makes a quick trip to the fridge for two bottles of water, the pantry for a bag of gummy bears, and through his closed bedroom door for a well-used deck of cards.

“Let me know if you want something else to drink,” he says as he extends the bottle of water to Spencer and sits across from him. “I have beer and I can whip up a mixed drink if you want.”

“Thank you, but I think I’m done drinking for the night.”

“You’re barely buzzing.” Not that he’s trying to convince Spencer to drink. 

Spencer shrugs. “I’m not a big drinker anyway.”

Derek wants to ask why, but he thinks he can probably guess. Spencer seems like the type of person who doesn’t like being out of control and that just makes Derek want to see him blissed out even more but not tonight. 

Tonight is about practicing for the tournament. 

He passes the deck to Spencer with instructions to shuffle and deal, tears open the bag of gummy bears, and starts sorting them into different colored piles on the table.

“What are the gummies for?” Spencer asks, sliding a card followed by another to Derek.

“These are our chips.” He splits each pile in half and slides them across the table. Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Red is 500, orange is 100, yellow is 25, green is ten, and white is five.”

“I have poker chips at home if you want me to bring them next time.” Derek grins at the idea of next time but shakes his head.

“I have some too. These chips just taste better.” He swipes a red from Spencer’s pile and pops it into his mouth as the genius protests with a “hey!” He chuckles and holds one of his red gummies up to Spencer in apology. “Here.”

He expects Spencer to snatch it from him or maybe even refuse the peace offering since Derek touched it and he seems germ-conscious. He doesn’t expect for Spencer to lean forward and press his mouth to Derek’s fingers. Hazel eyes lock onto his and never waver as his tongue slides out and curls around the gummy bear. His tongue flicks against the sensitive pads of Derek’s thumb and forefinger before the gummy bear disappears between two plump lips. Warmth floods Derek’s groin and he exhales hard.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as Spencer straightens up in his chair, chewing the bear with a smug grin. His hand hovers in the air for a moment, forgetting that there’s nothing to hold out to Spencer anymore, before it drops to the table with a dull thunk. 

They’re quiet, still staring at one another while Spencer chews and Derek’s brain tries to catch up. Then, Spencer flushes bright red, redder than he has ever blushed in front of Derek before.

“I’m sorry,” he yelps and scrambles for his messenger bag. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Spencer.”

“That was so inappropriate.” He slings the bag over his shoulder.

“Spencer.”

“I’m just going to-“

“Pretty Boy,” Derek calls again. Spencer freezes in the middle of pushing up from his seat, eyes wide as he finally looks at Derek instead of his bag. “Sit down.”

Spencer opens his mouth but snaps it shut with a headshake from Derek and sits down again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I molested you.”

“You licked my fingers.”

“Yeah and-“

“And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.”

“Oh…” He blushes brighter and his eyes dart around the wall behind Derek, trying to look at anything but him.

“C’mon, kid. I don’t normally go out to casinos with customers or bring them into my home. Use that genius brain of yours.”

“Oh, um...”

Derek chuckles and Spencer gives him a sheepish smile from under his floppy hair. He drops the messenger bag back to the floor but still fiddles with the strap.

“Stop worrying. We’re just playing poker tonight. You had some drinks and I don’t want to take advantage.”

“I only had two drinks.”

“I know, but they were my drinks.”

Spencer opens his mouth to argue, but he closes it when he realizes he can’t argue against the strength of Derek’s drinks.

“I like you too,” he mumbles.

Derek’s stomach resumes the happy dance from earlier in the casino and he doesn’t try to hide his smirk this time. “I hope you still do after I’ve taken all your gummy bears.”

“Not a chance.” 

Derek barks out a laugh and flips the corners of his cards up to glance at them. _Perfect._


	4. Chapter 4

They play poker for an hour. Derek coaches Spencer on different tells and bluffs. He forces Spencer to bet high and sometimes bets low to catch him off guard. In return, Spencer gives Derek stiff competition. He’s good at hiding his tells behind a bored façade, assuming the same expression and lazy gestures he uses when he plays video poker. He’s up two orange and three green gummy bears when they call it quits for the night. Spencer starts yawning in the middle of the fourth hand so Derek collects the cards without a word at the end of the fifth.

He doesn’t expect to find himself in the middle of a spat with the young genius shortly after.

“I do it all the time, Derek.”

“At 1 in the morning?”

“Yes, even at 1 in the morning. It’s only three stops from here on the 114.”

“But-“

“Statistics show that a bus rider is actually 60 times safer than someone who commutes in a personal vehicle. Lightrail and subway riders are 30 times safer and-”

He holds up a hand to cut off the eruption of statistics from the younger man.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Look, it’s 1 a.m. and you’re tired. I just want to make sure you get home safe.” Spencer sighs and Derek knows that last part isn’t fair but he also knows it guarantees his win.

Spencer acquiesces and grabs his messenger bag as Derek grabs his wallet and keys from the counter.

“You know, I really don’t mind taking the bus,” he huffs one last time as they make their way out of the apartment.

“I know, but I mind. Besides, you save your dollar fee.”

“One forty-five,” Spencer murmurs. Derek shakes his head and locks the door. Trust Spencer to hurt his own side of the argument with the need to correct numbers.

The drive is amiable. There’s not a whole lot playing on the radio at 1a.m. just some telepathic woman, a man giving life advice, and sappy music requests for ex-lovers. Spencer turns the dial until he finds a station that Derek’s radio has never stopped on. Classical piano drifts through the speakers and Derek looks at him sideways.

“Really?”

“Even you can appreciate Claire de Lune.”

Derek reaches for the knob but Spencer grabs his hand instead. Breaking out of Spencer’s grasp is too easy with his self-defense training. He’s only in the introduction class at the academy part time, but it comes in handy as he twists his wrist and tugs upward like he was taught. He laughs as his hand comes free and lunges for the dial again. 

“Nice try, kid.” His fingertips barely brush the dial when long fingers wrap tight around his wrist. He doesn’t resist, knowing his strength will break him out of any hold Spencer tries. Of course, Spencer doesn’t know his plan and yanks hard. His palm skims over thin legs and comes to rest just above a bony knee. He tenses to dig fingers right above that knee, anticipating a ticklish jerk that will free him from Spencer’s grasp again.

Spencer’s knee jerks before he even tickles him, as if Spencer’s mind just caught up to where Derek’s hand is.

The atmosphere changes. They aren’t playing anymore. The air gets warmer, and Spencer’s hands press against the back of his instead of tugging it away from the radio. Their eyes connect and Derek watches as a pink tongue darts out to lick at full lips. He didn’t expect this turn of events but he’s not going to argue. He relaxes his hand and forces himself not to tickle, but to caress instead. He runs his fingertips against the inside seam of Spencer’s slacks and the gasp from Spencer sends a thrill through him. The pants are soft to the touch and thin from wear, letting Derek feel the warmth radiating off of him. He can only imagine what Spencer feels as his hand continues its travel upwards.

“Der-” Spencer’s voice is a warning and he stops his hand to rest in the middle of his thigh. His fingers still move, rubbing back and forth across the inside of Spencer’s leg. He can feel the muscle twitch beneath his grasp and bites back a groan as he imagines that muscle twitching beside his ears as he swallows Spencer whole.

Spencer’s hands haven’t moved, fingers of one hand still curled around his wrist and the others resting on the back of his hand. Every so often, the fingers twitch and nails press against the sensitive skin. He dares a look at Spencer again, but the younger man’s eyes are closed and his cheeks are dusted pink. He seems to be concentrating and the urge to move his fingers just a few inches, to ghost over the erection that Spencer is willing away, surges through him. 

His fingers continue to brush back and forth, but he doesn’t shift them closer. He’ll wait until he can spread the brunette on his bed and bring him to the brink of orgasm again and again until he’s begging with wide eyes and pink lips. A quick hand job in the car isn’t worth it when he can have that fantasy later.

The rest of the ride is silent save for Spencer’s quiet, shuddering breaths and the sound of Derek’s fingers moving across fabric. He wishes that Spencer wore shorts so he could slide his fingertips against soft, milky thighs but shorts don’t seem to work with Spencer. Besides, the idea of turning such a formal, put-together man into a trembling mess kind of does it for Derek. But that’s getting ahead of himself so he focuses on sliding his fingertips a little bit closer to where he really wants them and smirks when Spencer’s leg twitches in earnest. _So responsive, even with clothes on._

Claire de Lune drifts around the pair as Derek pulls into a parking spot in front of a quaint apartment building. He uses his left hand to shift into park so he doesn’t have to move his right. Spencer snorts and amusement dances in his eyes.

“You molested me first.” He winks. “I just figured I should return the favor.” 

Spencer outright laughs at that.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Derek says.

“Oh.” Disappointment flashes across Spencer’s face and his fingers pluck at an invisible thread on his pants. “I guess I’ll see you Wednesday then.”

“Do you like spaghetti?”

“What?”

“I make a pretty awesome sauce with onions and peppers. You could come over tomorrow. We can eat and maybe continue.”

“Are you inviting me over to feed me and then molest me?”

Derek laughs. “I meant continue poker, but I wouldn’t be against some of this-” he squeezes Spencer’s thigh “-again.”

Spencer smiles and shifts forward to brush lips against Derek’s cheek. “No onions and I’m in,” he murmurs and Derek can feel his grin against his own cheek. He goes to shift back, but Derek threads his fingers through the curls at the nape of Spencer’s neck.

“Deal,” he breathes and connects their lips. Kissing Spencer is everything Derek imagined it would be. His lips are soft and full and move against his own in a perfect rhythm. He opens up beautifully and Derek groans as the power of it rushes through his chest. Their tongues meet on the brink of their lips and Spencer’s quiet whimper makes Derek press harder into his mouth, chasing the sound and sweet taste of him.

He loses track of time, basking in the taste and feel of Spencer’s mouth, but forces himself to pull away a few moments later. “If you don’t leave now,” he growls. “I’m going to follow you up those stairs.”

Spencer’s eyes widen a bit at that and he extracts himself from Derek’s grasp. The reaction makes Derek’s eyebrows furrow and worry bloom in his chest. 

“Spence?” he asks but Spencer shakes his head.

“Tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah… Is everything ok?”

“Yes, of course,” he says in a rush. “Thank you for the ride.” Before Derek can say anything else, Spencer is closing the door behind him and walking away without a backwards glance. He waits until Spencer unlocks his door before driving off. Watching those tight slacks hug his ass as he walks is just a bonus to making sure he gets safely inside.

***  
_Text Message 1:26a.m. Derek: Claire da Luna has grown on me._

_1:31a.m. Spencer: Claire de Lune. I knew you could appreciate it._

_1:32a.m. Derek: I appreciated something ;)_

_1:33a.m. Spencer: I must admit your car is preferable to the city bus at 1a.m._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've come to the last chapter! Thanks for joining me on this little journey. Hope you enjoy!

The sauce is perfect, even without the onions. He added garlic instead and the aroma of tomatoes, peppers, and garlic fills the apartment. The noodles are already cooked and strained and the meatballs are sizzling away in a pan on the stove. The table is set with utensils, napkins, and glasses and a sweet bottle of white wine stands off to one side.

Derek isn’t nervous exactly, but an anxious energy tingles at his fingertips as he adds salt to the sauce and stirs it once more before turning the heat to low. He wants Spencer to relax and enjoy the night without getting anxious about, well, everything Spencer gets anxious about when they are together. He knows they both suggested sex might happen, but he’d be happy to play poker and spend time with the other man.

When he told Penelope that tidbit over arcade games earlier that morning, she smiled indulgently and teased him the rest of the day. 

He expected her to pull a Momma Bear and caution him about getting into bed with Spencer too quickly. Instead, she encouraged him not to question his desires and only to take it slow if Spencer requested it.

“Besides, what’s good about being an adult if you can’t sleep with someone and get to know them at the same time?” she said, while putting two bullets into an alien on the screen. She winked at him before turning back to the alien invasion.

He pulls the pan of meatballs off the heat and sets it on the counter to rest. A knock at the door has him moving before he can tinker with dinner anymore and probably ruin it by over-seasoning. He opens the door with a smirk and can feel his eyes darken as he takes in the man on the other side.

Spencer is dressed casually for him at least, which means Derek is feeling a little informal in his nice jeans and fitted shirt. His slacks are tight and hug his slim legs. He wears a light grey, button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons loose around his neck. He has the shirt tucked in and is even wearing a thin, black tie.

Derek whistles. “You look gorgeous.”

Spencer blushes and looks away for a moment. Derek knows he is screwed when he finds Spencer’s shyness, well, adorable really.

“You didn’t need to dress up for me, though.” He steps back so Spencer can enter the apartment and sneaks a glance at his backside as he makes his way to the kitchen. So screwed.

“This is the most casual thing I own.” He sets a paper bag on the counter and pulls out a small box from a bakery just down the street. “I brought cupcakes.” He pops open the lid of the box to show the older man but snaps it closed again when Derek reaches for the chocolate piece on top of one of the cupcakes.

“You spoil all my fun,” Derek says and bumps Spencer’s shoulder with his own. Spencer grins and Derek can’t resist leaning down to press a quick kiss to the side of his mouth. He has a second to worry that maybe that was too direct, but Spencer hums, and then asks what he can do to help, the small smile on his lips telling Derek that the kiss was more than welcome.

Derek serves up two heaping bowls of spaghetti and meatballs while Spencer slices the garlic bread and brings a plate of it to the table. Derek pours them each a glass of wine before returning the bottle to the fridge to stay cool. He wants them both sober for anything that might happen later but by the way Spencer was chewing his lip at the front door, he needs the glass to relax a little. 

“Ask me why I’m playing in the poker tournament,” Spencer says as Derek bites into a meatball. Garlic, oregano, and mozzarella meld together on his tongue. _Perfect._ He tears off a piece of garlic bread, dunks it in the sauce, and sticks it in his mouth.

“Why are you playing in the poker tournament?” 

Spencer swirls his fork through his noodles and rolls a meatball from one side of his bowl to the next.

“My mom has schizophrenia.” Derek’s eyebrows shoot to the top of his forehead. Spencer has talked a little bit about his mother and they’ve both shared some of themselves with the other, but he wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting student loans or wanting a car or something less urgent. He sets down his fork and knife and focuses all of his attention on the man in front of him. 

“She’s had it my whole life. It’s not something that really gets better.” Spencer stares at his bowl, hands resting on the tabletop, not even pretending to eat anymore. “I had her admitted to a sanitarium when I was 18.”

“Oh, Pretty Boy,” Derek breathes, but Spencer continues on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“She’s well taken care of and I visit her often but it’s still expensive. Gambling is the only way I can afford it right now and the tournament gives me the greatest chance of doubling my income.”

Derek reaches across the table and presses fingertips against the back of Spencer’s hand. His eyes finally flick up to meet Derek’s concerned ones as he turns his hands to link their fingers. He brushes the pad of his thumb back and forth across the soft skin of Spencer’s hand and the genius stares as he does it, focusing on the movement instead of looking at him again.

“Does this have anything to do with why you fled the car so quickly last night?”

Spencer nods. “She had an episode a few days ago. She was trying to throw out all of her belongings because she thought someone was listening to her through them. I helped her pack everything up and took it to my place. I just didn’t want to have to explain it all last night.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Derek squeezes his hand and Spencer smiles.

Derek changes the topic after that, much to Spencer’s relief if the way he smiles and starts to eat is any indication. He talks about his day with Penelope at the arcade, how many free throws he was able to make in the time limit, and how she positively kicked his ass shooting aliens. Spencer talks about the classes he taught that day as a requirement for finishing his Engineering PhD and about a panel he’s eager to attend later in the week regarding psychology and serial killers. 

Throughout dinner, Derek keeps finding ways to touch Spencer: a brush of fingers against his, a palm on his thigh, or even a press of his knee against Spencer’s. Nothing untoward or sexual, but he enjoys touching the younger man and doesn’t see a reason not to indulge a little bit. Spencer blushes at first but soon reciprocates with his own gentle touches, a little shier than Derek, but still warm and absolutely welcomed. 

Spencer insists on doing the dishes when they’re done with dinner since Derek cooked the meal. He won’t take no for an answer, regardless of how much Derek argues that it’s his apartment and he just wants to treat Spencer to a special night. He compromises by letting Derek clear the table and put the leftovers in containers but threatens to squirt him with water if he even tries to take up a sponge. Derek considers it, just to see if Spencer would go through with his threat, but the glint in his eye when he shifts a little towards the sink tells him that he would. 

When Spencer is putting the last dish into the drying rack, Derek presses against him, chest to back, and settles his hands on slim hips. Spencer jerks a little in response and his back arches in a way that presses his ass into the cradle of Derek’s pelvis. 

“Want to practice some more?” His breath ghosts over the younger man’s neck and the shudder he can feel against his chest makes him want to press harder and abandon poker entirely. 

“Sure.”

He grins, presses a kiss to the back of Spencer’s neck, and retrieves the poker chips and deck of cards from his bedroom. He comes back to find Spencer already sitting at the table with two cupcakes in the center on a small plate. He seats himself to the right of Spencer at the square table as opposed to across from him like normal. Spencer eyes him, surely trying to puzzle out the change, but he only smirks in response. 

He shuffles and deals as Spencer dishes out the chips. The first hand is played normally with only cupcake eating and light banter to break up the acts. Spencer pulls in a small pot of 20 but Derek isn’t too worried.

He shifts his left hand onto Spencer’s knee when the genius flips up the corner of his cards during the second hand. His eyes narrow in question, but Derek only looks at his cards, poker face firmly in place. They bet through the flop before Derek moves his hand. He slides his fingertips up the inside of Spencer’s thigh and delights in the way the muscle twitches beneath his grasp as if its eager to feel his touch again. Spencer gasps and tosses a chip toward the pile with a little more force than necessary.

“I’m pretty sure professional poker players aren’t allowed to touch each other,” he states as Derek throws in his own chips.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He settles his hand to about where it was last night on the other leg and glides his fingers back and forth, just like before. Every so often, Spencer’s leg twitches and he takes in a shuddering breath, but his bored expression stays firmly in place. Derek wins the hand and rakes in 40 bucks. 

It’s his turn to deal. He goes to lift his hand off of Spencer’s leg but Spencer stops him. 

“Don’t,” he says, and presses Derek’s hand back down, a little higher than it was before, barely an inch from where Derek really wants to touch. He gathers the cards and starts to shuffle.

“Something you want, Pretty Boy,” Derek teases, smirk firmly in place.

He stops mid-shuffle and meets Derek’s gaze. “You,” he says as if that was obvious and snaps the cards together. 

The directness catches Derek off guard. That shy Spencer, who blushes at Derek’s flirting, can make such a bold statement as if he should have already figured it out, floors Derek. But that’s the interesting thing about Spencer, the thing that draws Derek to him. He can be shy, anxious, and babbling one moment, and then flip into confident, determined, and sure of himself the next.

Derek doesn’t even know what to do with the information. He wants to continue exploring the younger man’s thighs. Hell, he wants to abandon the poker game in general and use his mouth, but Spencer does need the practice and he can wait. He wants Spencer to beg by the end of the night and that’ll only happen if he doesn’t rush them into things.

Derek’s fingers are still against warm fabric as Spencer deals out the hands. He forgets to move them until Spencer’s knee bumps against his own and stays there. He spread his legs. He spread his legs so Derek’s hand would move, so his hand has more room, so his hand can touch more. Derek has to close his eyes and count to five so he doesn’t jump on the man next to him. He knew Spencer liked him and he knew his touches would be welcome. He just didn’t know that Spencer would be so… _eager._

He moves his fingers, tracing lazy patterns on Spencer’s thigh as they both look at their cards. He stays in safe territory until they’re betting in the turn. He shifts forward, casually looking at the cards on the table, and just brushes the back of his knuckles against Spencer’s half-hard cock. Spencer moans and Derek sees his hand twitch out of the corner of his eye like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He does it again, only this time he watches Spencer’s face. Soft lips part on a moan as hazel eyes flutter closed and then open to catch him staring. _Gorgeous._

“Something you want?” Spencer mimics with a small smile, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“You,” Derek breathes. 

Spencer’s smile widens and that’s all the permission Derek needs. He pushes himself up from his chair and bends over Spencer to press their lips together. The kiss starts soft and languid. Their lips move against one another in a slow rhythm. He runs the fingers of one hand through soft tresses while his other gives some gentle attention to the man’s neglected thigh. Spencer tastes like chocolate and the sweet wine from dinner and Derek groans the combination.

He brushes his exploring hand across the slight bulge in Spencer’s lap. Spencer moans softly and the noise shoots fire down Derek’s spine. He drops his hands to slim hips and hauls the man up, turning them until Spencer is pressed back against the table. The kiss turns rough and Spencer whimpers into his mouth as Derek grinds against him. 

It’s not enough. He tucks his hands underneath warm thighs and lifts the man up to sit on the table. Poker chips and cards drop to the floor, but neither man notices as Derek presses into the curve of Spencer’s legs and grinds their hips together. They’re both hard and the friction sends pleasure shooting through his groin.

Spencer groans against his lips and presses forward with as much enthusiasm as Derek. His arms wrap around his shoulders as Derek’s hands slide down his back and cup his backside, pushing their hips more firmly together. 

He didn’t plan on rutting against Spencer like a teenager, and he definitely didn’t plan on doing so on the kitchen table. But with the way Spencer is wriggling and moaning against him, Derek can’t get his brain to function long enough to move away. He knew the young man would be responsive, given his reactions to his gentle touches in the car and at dinner, but this noisy, enthusiastic man was more than he could hope for.

Spencer has on too many clothes. Derek’s fingers slide up to his neck and start loosening his tie to take care of that problem. His mouth moves down to kiss and nibble along that long neck as Spencer lets out a whimper. _Those noises…_ He presses their mouths together again, harder this time, and chases those noises into Spencer’s mouth.

Warm hands come up to his chest and his brain sparks with hope that nimble fingers will tease his nipples or scratch down his abs. The hands feel wonderful pressing there until they press hard enough to move him away.

His eyebrows furrow as Spencer pants but doesn’t speak for a moment. He looks gorgeous, hair mussed from Derek’s attention, cheeks flushed with arousal, and shirt halfway undone to reveal creamy skin and a flat stomach. Derek grinds forward again just to watch Spencer shudder and moan. His hands come up again and Derek respects his silent request, shifting back so they aren’t as pressed together as before. 

“Our first time together,” he pants, “is not going to be on your kitchen table.”

“First time huh?” Derek smirks and rubs his thumb against the dip of Spencer’s hip where his shirt has untucked enough to reveal skin. 

He laughs. “Of course that would be the part of the sentence you found most important.”

“If that means I get to enjoy your body moving against me again, then, yeah it’s the most important part of that sentence.”

Spencer blushes and a shudder vibrates up his spine. Derek smirks and leans forward until his lips brush against his ear.

“Oh you like dirty talk, Pretty Boy?” He nips at the earlobe and Spencer gasps. “You like the thought of me moving above you?” He squirms on the table. Derek grasps his slim hips to keep him from pressing close. “Thrusting our hips together over and over again?”

Spencer surges forward to press a quick kiss to his lips but pulls away before Derek can fully indulge. His eyes glint. 

“Bedroom. Now.”

Derek doesn’t argue.

They stumble into the bedroom, shedding their own clothes and not touching in an unspoken agreement to get naked and tangled together as soon as possible. Every stitch of clothing that Spencer sheds reveals more and more of that soft, creamy skin. Derek can’t wait to get his hands and mouth all over it. He wants to touch and taste everything Spencer has to offer. 

He must groan at the thought because Spencer turns to him with a knowing smile.

“Get over here, then.”

He grins and presses their bodies together, hip to shoulder, at the foot of the bed. They meet in a soft kiss and Derek revels in the warm body standing in the circle of his arms for a moment before pulling away.

“Bed,” he says and Spencer crawls onto the bed before flopping back against soft pillows. He stands at the foot of the bed, drinking in the sight before him. Spencer is all long limbs and milky skin spread against his dark blue comforter. He looks beautiful and Derek hopes he remembers this image for a long time.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Spencer flushes and his shoulders curl in slightly, embarrassed. No way is Derek going to let his Pretty Boy hide away after he’s finally gotten him into bed. He crawls onto the bed, looms over Spencer with knees on either side of his hips and hands framing his face. He waits until Spencer stares up at him before speaking again.

“You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

“Derek-” He cuts off the protest with a soft kiss and presses their foreheads together.

“That was my first thought when I saw you at the casino that night.”

Spencer hums and runs his fingertips down Derek’s chest. His abs twitch at the teasing caress and that brings a smile to the other man’s lips. 

“I had a similar thought.”

“Yeah?”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “I’m naked in your bed. Do you really need me to stroke your ego?”

“I’d rather you stroke something else.”

Spencer laughs but moves his hand lower, wraps his fingers around Derek’s cock, and wipes the teasing smirk right off of his face. He groans and drops his forehead against the shoulder beneath him as Spencer works his cock. The pressure is perfect, tight enough to cause friction but loose enough to keep him from climaxing before the fun really starts. His hips thrust forward, lazy, matching the rhythm of Spencer’s hand.

“Fuck, Pretty Boy,” he groans against a sharp collarbone before leaving a bruising kiss there.

“You asked.”

He pulls back to see the soft smirk playing at Spencer’s lips. “Yeah, guess I did.” He kisses the younger man before moving backwards on the bed, effectively pulling his cock from that warm grip. He doesn’t want to keep Spencer from touching him, but right now he’s looking a little too cocky and not nearly disheveled enough. His goal from earlier, to get the man to beg, rushes to the front of his mind and he knows just how to start.

He leaves a trail of kisses and bites down Spencer’s abdomen. He stops his travels for a moment to tweak sensitive nipples and the gasp that results makes him grin. He’ll have to spend more time there later, but for now, he’s on a mission. His mouth and fingers roam over sensitive skin, pulling moans, gasps, and whimpers here and there as he continues to move downwards. Spencer’s body is sensitive and responsive and Derek could come just from hearing some of the noises coming out of that mouth.

Spencer’s cock is long, slim, and curves up to his stomach. It’s flushed pink and leaking from the tip from being aroused for so long. Derek wraps dark fingers around the base of it and angles it towards him.

He glances up only to find Spencer staring at him, pupils wide with arousal. He flashes him a grin and then licks a long stripe up the underside of his cock and swirls his tongue around the tip. Spencer’s head falls back against the pillows and he lets out a loud moan, which makes Derek chuckle around the tip in his mouth.

He bobs his head to meet his hand, keeping the pressure light and teasing. The taste is salty, although not unpleasant. He thinks the cupcakes may have added a hint of sweetness to keep it from being too bitter but he isn’t sure. Spencer would know something like that but he’s not about to stop and ask. 

Spencer trembles beneath him and his hips twitch in minute thrusts as if he isn’t sure if he wants Derek to take him deeper or pull off entirely. Derek isn’t the biggest fan of giving blowjobs, but watching the genius devolve into a shivering, moaning mess makes his own cock ache. He tightens his grip but lets Spencer’s hips shift his cock further into his mouth and groans at the feeling of that cock thrusting in and out of his lips.

He sucks lightly at the head one more time before pulling away. The younger man whimpers and reaches out a hand to pull him back, but Derek threads their fingers together and brings their hands to rest against a jutting hipbone. 

“How far do you want this to go?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Spencer’s hand as the younger man pants and tries to focus on his question. He’d be happy with anything that Spencer is willing to give. This is only their first time after all. 

Spencer doesn’t answer with words but with his body. He spreads his legs a little more, bends one knee all the way up, and tilts his hips, revealing his entrance to the man kneeling between his legs. Derek groans and his hungry eyes take in that small, pink hole. He glances up to see Spencer chewing on his bottom lip, a light blush staining his cheeks and neck. 

“None of that.” He presses his thumb against those lips, pulling the bottom one away from his teeth. Spencer’s lips flick into a small smile and his tongue darts out to swipe against Derek’s thumb. Not one to deny his Pretty Boy, Derek pushes his thumb forward. 

“Suck, baby,” he murmurs. Spencer’s blush deepens and reaches all the way down to his chest. He closes his eyes and swirls his tongue around the appendage, sucking lightly. Derek moans and thrusts his thumb in and out of that warm cavern. His tongue is talented and the idea of moving forward and thrusting in between those lips and down that long throat tugs at his groin. But Spencer already said what he wanted and Derek is completely on board with that plan.

He pulls his thumb away. Spencer’s disappointed frown makes him chuckle. “Don’t worry baby, I’m going to fill you up soon.” He whimpers at that and Derek smirks.

He rubs his wet thumb against that small entrance. Spencer’s hips tilt up more and Derek groans as he’s spread even wider beneath him. The image is the stuff of Derek’s previous fantasies about the man: his wet cock standing proudly, balls heavy with his pending orgasm, and a tight little hole that Derek’ can’t wait to spread open. He swirls the tip of his thumb around that entrance, pressing every once in a while, but not entering. 

“Der, please,” Spencer pants and bears his hips down to try and force the thumb inside. 

“Just a second, baby,” he murmurs against a jutting hip bone, laying a soft kiss there before moving off of the bed completely. He hates to leave the bed, but they need supplies. He comes back in seconds with a small bottle of lube, a condom, and a pillow in his arms. He pushes the pillow beneath Spencer’s hips as the genius pushes himself up, then hunkers back down between those spread legs. He forces Spencer’s legs over his shoulders and scoots until his face is a foot away from his beautiful entrance.

“Derek, don’t,” he whines and tilts his hips down to hide himself away. It’s too intimate, especially for their first time, but Derek loves watching and he’s hoping that Spencer will allow it. He rubs a hand on the back of one thigh and kisses the inside of the other.

“Please, baby. I want to see you take my fingers.” Spencer looks apprehensive and he’s biting his lip again, which just makes Derek want to kiss his shyness away. He holds his gaze instead, hoping that his sincerity shines through. Spencer is gorgeous everywhere and Derek wants to watch as he opens up for him, as his entrance hugs his fingers, hungry for more.

Spencer nods, still blushing, and tilts his hips back up to expose himself to Derek again. He presses a quick kiss to his trembling thigh before he allows his gaze to slide back down. With one hand, he holds one full cheek to the side, slicks his fingers with his other hand, and brings them up to trace fingertips around the rim like he did earlier with his thumb.

Spencer’s rim is a light pink and wet with lube. He can hear Spencer getting restless above him, impatient with all the teasing, so he straightens a finger and pushes in. He’s tight and Derek watches as his finger disappears inside that pink rim inch by inch. They both groan as Derek starts to piston his finger in and out slowly so Spencer can feel everything. 

“Another,” Spencer pants after a few moments. Derek is happy to oblige, pressing his second finger in a little too quickly with his eagerness. The brunette hisses in discomfort but thrusts his hips down when Derek freezes. 

“I’m not made of glass,” he pants and his fingers grip at the sheets below him.

“I know.” He bites a little at the twitching muscle next to his ear and thrusts both of his fingers in and out with the same rhythm as before. Spencer’s rim tightens as he pulls them almost all of the way out, like it’s trying to keep Derek’s fingers in his body and Derek groans at that.

“Fuck, Pretty boy,” he breathes and adds a third finger without waiting for the go ahead. Spencer whines and pushes forward to take that extra finger. So eager. He pushes his fingers in as far as he can and crooks them forward. Spencer’s whole body jerks and the string of curses that fall from his lips tells Derek that he found that spot. He rubs against his prostate relentlessly, pressing again and again without pulling away. Spencer’s whole body moves with his pleasure, thighs clenching in around Derek’s head, hands gripping at the sheets. A wave of moans, gasps, and whines fill the bedroom around them and the noises make Derek groan and double his efforts until Spencer’s hand snatches at his wrist.

“Stop, stop, please Derek,” he whines and writhes against the mattress as tingles of pleasure undoubtedly shoot through his limbs.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow but he freezes his fingers where they are. Spencer pants and clears his throat.

“I won’t last if you keep stimulating my prostate.”

Derek wants to laugh because of course Spencer would still use big words in the bedroom. He pulls his fingers out, earning a gasp from Spencer, and takes both cheeks in hand to spread them fully a part. Spencer’s hole gleams with lube, spread open wider than before, and twitches against the open air like it’s desperate to be filled with his fingers again. Derek has something better in mind.

He lets go and scoots up until he’s kneeling between spread legs.

“Want to come on my cock?” he asks in a low voice as he rolls on the condom and slicks up his cock.

Spencer nods, face a little flushed from embarrassment and arousal. He shifts forward, pushing Spencer’s thighs up to wrap around his hips, and lines up his cock. Without warning, he presses in. The tip pops in and Derek groans as he’s surrounded by tight heat. He pushes forward inch by inch, allowing Spencer time to get used to his girth, but not stopping until the front of his thighs press tight against the younger man’s backside. He knows it’s better to get all the way inside on the first go, even if it seems like too much sometimes.

Spencer grips his shoulders and squeezes his eyes shut as Derek moves inside of him. He freezes once he’s all the way inside and waits while Spencer pants and adjusts. It takes a lot to keep him from thrusting out and back into that tight channel, but he knows that Spencer needs a moment.

He closes his own eyes and focuses on breathing slowly to stave off his own arousal. His cock is nestled in the tightest, warmest place he’s every thrust into. Pleasure courses through his groin and lower back. Spencer’s thighs are warm and soft against his hips and his nails press sharp into his biceps every so often as he’s overwhelmed by the way his body has to stretch to accommodate Derek. 

Fingertips trace over his cheekbones and flutter around his face, urging him to open his eyes and meet the hazy stare of his lover. Spencer’s expression is one of awed pleasure and a realization sparks in Derek’s brain.

“You’ve never done this before,” he states, eyes wide. Fuck, he should have added a fourth finger or suggested they exchange blow jobs or—A warm palm cups his cheek and brings his attention to the man beneath him.

Spencer smiles and shakes his head. “I’ve had sex before, just not penetrative. At least, not with another person.”

Derek drops his head to Spencer’s shoulder and groans at the image of Spencer pushing fingers or even toys into his own body. Spencer chuckles and it makes his body vibrate around Derek’s cock. The older man nudges his hips forward and the laugh turns into a punched out groan. 

He begins to thrust in and out of that warm, pliant body, slow at first, allowing the man beneath him to get used to the pressure inside. After a few thrusts, Spencer’s hips begin to move in time with his own. His hole grips tightly at his cock and Derek glances down on his next thrust just to see how it clenches at him as he pulls almost entirely out before pulling him back in. He moans his pleasure into Spencer’s neck. 

Spencer answers with a moan of his own. His fingers scramble under muscular arms and up to his shoulder blades, pulling Derek up into a passionate kiss. Their lips move against one another, exchanging breathless moans, as their hips continue the fast rhythm that Derek set.

He angles his hips to thrust against Spencer’s prostate and Spencer rips his mouth away to moan louder than before. His fingernails scrape down Derek’s back and the sharp pain mixes with the pleasure that engulfs his cock. Now that he’s found that spot, he pounds against it with every thrust. Spencer fingers scrabble at his back, his hips stutter, and his body writhes beneath him.

“Close,” he pants. He goes to move a hand down to his own cock but Derek grasps it in his hand and pins it above his head.

“You said,” he growls into Spencer’s ear, “you’d come on my cock.”

He thrusts hard and Spencer bounces against the mattress with a whimper. 

“Can’t, can’t,” he pants, face scrunched up.

Derek doesn't believe in can't. He pins both hands above Spencer’s head and pushes his knees forward more, practically bending the lithe man in half. He pounds into that tight hole, hitting his prostate with every harsh thrust. Spencer tries to move his hips but Derek is pinning him with hands and body and all he can do is take everything Derek has to give. He’s reduced to a writhing, moaning mess and it’s better than any fantasy. 

“Please, please, please.” He tries to lift his arms but Derek pushes against them and thrusts hard.

Spencer comes between them, untouched and almost screaming. His body shakes with pleasure and Derek feels wet come splash onto his abs. His hole clamps down tighter than before and Derek groans as he thrusts a few more times before his own orgasm rips through his body, shooting pleasure through his limbs and heat through his groin and lower back. 

He floats for a moment, pleasure making his brain fuzzy, before he feels fingers cupping his face. He opens his eyes to see soft smile stretched over Spencer’s lips and half-lidded eyes watching him.

“Are you okay?” he asks because fuck he got carried away and that was Spencer’s first time and what if he hurt him and—

Spencer cuts off his anxious thoughts with a soft kiss.

“More than okay.”

Derek pulls out as gently as he can and glances down to see Spencer’s rim red and a little puffy, but not visibly torn. There’s no blood on the condom, so that’s a good sign. He takes care of the condom quickly, grabs a wet washcloth from the adjoining bathroom, and comes back to find Spencer still sprawled on his back, arms above his head, legs spread, and a dazed expression on his face. He makes quick work of wiping off Spencer’s soft stomach and throwing the washcloth towards his laundry basket before he gathers the genius into his arms. He chuckles when Spencer wraps an arm and leg around him, nestling into his embrace without hesitation.

“Wake me up in twenty minutes,” Spencer mumbles against his chest.

“Why twenty minutes?”

“The average refractory period for an 18 year old male is 15 minutes.” He yawns, but continues through it. “According to our ages, twenty minutes should be more than enough.”

Derek laughs and runs his hands up and down Spencer’s back, warm happiness settling into his stomach when the younger man shifts to press even closer. 

“Anything you want, Pretty Boy.” He presses a kiss to the mop of hair beneath his chin and settles in to listen to Spencer breathe as he snoozes. Twenty minutes seems far away but Derek is happy to pass them with the warm body snug against him.


End file.
